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He smiles before getting up from the bed and leaving. I take his spot and run my fingertips through Lucas’s dark hair. “Why do you do this to yourself, Luke?” I ask, not expecting a reply.
“It’s easier than feeling,” he almost whispers.
His words pain me because I know he’s right. If I had the option to drink myself into oblivion, I would have done it by now. Emotions are so damn heavy, and having to carry them all the time is exhausting. I wish I could let go, be free, and say fuck everything that makes me feel, but I just can’t. It’s more than just me now.
“Not all feelings are bad,” I say, standing from my bed and pulling the thicker curtain over the window to join my mesh one.
“Say what you want, Flower. All feelings fucking suck.”
I stare down on him for a moment before walking around the bed and crawling in beside him. This is one of the moments I feel I can be unguarded with him. I don’t have to be hard or mean even if that’s how I feel. I can just be me because he probably won’t even remember in a few hours. “No. Love isn’t that bad.”
He laughs. “Isn’t that bad? Tell me how you feel about Teddy, then. Tell me the precise moment you fell for him and the precise moment you started to hate him. I bet you don’t even know the difference anymore between love and hate.”
I want to think of a witty remark to throw back at him, but I can’t because I know he’s right. When you love someone, red flags blur to white and toxic relationships are born. “Maybe you’re right,” I finally admit.
He turns on his side and faces me. “I know I’m right. But I also know it doesn’t even matter. If you feel something strong enough, nothing fucking matters.”
I want to look at him too, but I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll see everything I’ve been craving. Love. Compassion. Acceptance. And I’m scared if I see it, I won’t be able to back away even if he hurts me. The red flags will blur to white in the depths of his eyes.
“Look at me,” he says, almost as if he knows I’m avoiding it.
“I can’t,” I sigh.
“Why not?”
I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut. “You’re drunk, Lucas,” I say, trying to change the subject.
“And? Look at me,” he repeats slowly, almost in a purr.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. “Because I’m not sure if I love or hate you, and I don’t feel like figuring it out right now.”
The words leave my mouth before I can think, and I feel a weight lifted off me. I’ve been holding back out of fear, but I’ve already admitted my love for him before. Why does this time seem so much harder?
He stays silent, and I do too. I’m not sure what Lucas and I have, but I know I don’t want it to end.
“Flower?” he questions, his hot breath hitting my cheek, breaking the silence.
I turn to finally face him and immediately regret it. His eyes burn into mine with questions and confusion. His eyebrows pull together, letting confliction wash over his face. “I don’t know what it is about you. I’ve tried to figure it out, tried to pinpoint why I’m so fucking infatuated, but I just can’t.”
“Maybe you don’t know the difference between love and hate.” I use the same words.
When I first came around, I knew Lucas didn’t like me. I was an outsider coming in and fucking up the flow of their family. And honestly, I didn’t like Lucas either. I’m not sure when that changed, but it did. His arms became my safe haven, and his words drove me forward. I was never supposed to like him, let alone love him, but it happened, and now I don’t know what to do about it.
“Maybe not, but I know whatever this is, I don’t want to fuck it up.”
It’s always been hushed whispers, secret kisses, and diluted feelings with Lucas, and now that we have the chance to change that, I’m terrified.
“I’m scared,” I say honestly.
“Scared of what?”
“That you’ll hurt me. I can’t take another heartbreak.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Charlie.” He brushes my hair behind my ear.
